Secretly Seducing the Third Female Lead Behind the System’s Back - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Soul of a Working Girl

“Three, two, one.” Jiang Yisheng softly whispered the countdown. The moment the clock struck six-thirty, she shut down her computer.

“Time to get off work!” She stood up from her chair, put on her headphones, and began packing up while listening to music.

Jiang Yisheng slung her bag over her shoulder, put on her bear-themed hat, and cheerfully waved goodbye to her coworkers, beaming with joy as she embraced the weekend.

While waiting for the elevator, she adjusted her hat. The hat was connected to a scarf and gloves, with a yellow bear lying on top—cute and warm, her favorite. She couldn’t help reaching up to pat the bear’s head.

Stepping out of the office building, her eyes lit up. Snowflakes were gently falling from the night sky, reflecting the city lights.

Snow was like fireflies in the winter night—each flake crystal clear and glowing. Jiang Yisheng reached out instinctively to catch them. She ran down the steps, the snow crunching under her feet.

Tilting her head back, she watched a snowflake fall from the sky, wondering if it would land on her—and where.

When no one was looking, she secretly opened her mouth. A snowflake finally landed on her tongue. Pleased, she smacked her lips, savoring the cool tingle before stepping forward again.

The snow’s so pretty tonight. I’ll walk home.

With that thought, she picked a snow-night playlist, enjoying the soft crunch beneath her feet as she walked slowly.

Every few steps, she’d turn around to admire the footprints she left behind and snap a photo to remember it.

Not far ahead was a small food cart surrounded by a few people. Curious, Jiang Yisheng tiptoed forward to get a better look. The sign on the cart read: “Jianbing Guozi” (savory Chinese crepes).

She rubbed her belly. Perfect. I’ll grab one and skip cooking dinner.

She also wanted bubble tea, maybe some fruit, and to watch her favorite movie on her tablet.

Oh right—her new shower gel arrived today. She’d take a long, relaxing bath before enjoying her Friday night.

The more she thought about it, the happier she got. She pulled out her phone and ordered a bubble tea—estimated delivery: one hour.

“One jianbing guozi please, with two sausages!” she called to the vendor while walking over.

The cart was at a bridge corner. Whenever she passed by, Jiang Yisheng liked to glance into the river. With the snow falling tonight, she wanted to take a scenic photo.

Up ahead, a girl in a white trench coat was doing the same—enjoying the snowy river view.

Jiang Yisheng didn’t avoid her, instead finding the best angle to capture the scenery, inadvertently including the girl in her shot.

There were still two customers ahead of her, so she scrolled through her phone, checking the manuscripts she hadn’t finished reviewing.

Jiang Yisheng was twenty-six and had been working at a publishing house since graduating college. She was a junior editor, tasked with screening initial drafts—sifting through thousands to recommend a few to her supervisor for further review.

She had loved reading since childhood, so the job didn’t bore her. In fact, she was a fast reviewer, finishing one novel in about twenty minutes on average.

But today, she was reading slower than usual—mainly because one of the characters shared her name: Jiang Yisheng.

Even if it was a villainous supporting role, it still piqued her interest.

The plot was average, but good enough to kill time. Since starting her job, reading for fun and editing had begun to blur together. Sometimes, when she really liked a story, she’d slow down and read every word carefully. That meant she might only finish two or three drafts before the day ended, earning the occasional scolding from her boss. But she never took it to heart and just continued reading at home.

Oddly enough, this habit paid off—she’d often submit incredibly detailed book reviews the next day, dissecting each story with clarity and precision.

Manuscripts that received her glowing breakdowns usually passed publication and sold well. Thanks to the performance results, her boss gradually stopped criticizing her slower pace.

That said, she’d recently hit a streak of dull manuscripts—until this one. Despite its mediocre plot, the shared name sparked enough curiosity for her to keep going.

A few minutes later, the vendor asked, “Want scallions and cilantro, miss?”

“All of it,” she replied, looking up.

“Coming right up.” The vendor skillfully spread batter over the hot griddle.

Jiang Yisheng put her phone away to warm up her chilled hands.

“Seven yuan. Here you go.” Soon, the vendor handed her the steaming jianbing.

The moment it touched her hands, its warmth spread through her entire body.

She pulled out her phone to scan the payment code. Just then, a WeChat message popped up from her boss:

[Xiao Jiang, the snow’s heavy tonight. Not easy to get home, huh? Since you’re already out, we’ve got a draft to go over together. The company will reimburse your ride.]

Jiang Yisheng let out a heavy sigh, entered her password, and locked her phone angrily, pretending she hadn’t seen the message.

She asked the vendor for two plastic bags to keep her food warm until she got home.

Right on cue, her phone rang. It was her boss calling.

She wanted to hang up immediately, but for the sake of her job, she answered.

“Xiao Jiang, are you home yet?” Her boss’s voice was full of fake concern.

“Just reached the door. What’s up, Director?” She pretended not to have seen the earlier text.

“Oh, you’re home already? Hate to trouble you again.” He paused deliberately, waiting for her to speak.

Jiang Yisheng cursed inwardly but kept her tone calm. “What is it? Go ahead.”

“Well, the higher-ups just asked us to return a draft for revision. We need to rework it from top to bottom and send it to the author by 8 AM tomorrow.”

“Since you’re already home, I hate to make you come back out. But we’ll cover your ride and dinner.”

With a “grand gesture,” the boss tried to sound generous.

Jiang Yisheng replied sweetly, “Oh, don’t mention it, Director. The publishing house is like family. Of course I’ll come back. I’ll get a cab right now.”

“That’s the spirit! You’ve got potential. I won’t forget you when there’s a promotion.”

After hanging up, she angrily kicked snow off her boots. “Like hell you won’t,” she muttered.

She glanced at the jianbing still in her hands, not yet packed away, and frowned.

Suddenly, she noticed the same girl from earlier still standing by the river. Now she had turned around, hands in her pockets, quietly watching the jianbing cart.

With five or six people ahead in line, she probably wanted one but didn’t want to wait.

“This place is pretty popular, must be good. I have to head out anyway, so here—take mine,” Jiang Yisheng said, not wanting the girl to think she was weird. For some reason, she felt unusually outgoing, pulling the girl’s hand from her pocket and shoving the jianbing into it before walking off in a dramatic exit.

So thoughtful, she thought proudly.

On the way back, she no longer felt like admiring the snow. The yellow bear on her head flopped with each step as she trudged along, sighing heavily.

No matter how slow she walked, she still arrived back at the office. Looking up at the building, she rolled her eyes, then started doing exaggerated high knees in place…

“Ah, the roads were slippery. The car took a while. Hope I didn’t delay anything!” she gasped, rushing into the office, wiping away imaginary sweat.

“No problem. Safety first,” her boss said, smiling kindly before raising his voice. “I’ve sent the draft to everyone’s email. Let’s work together to get this done. Once it’s published, I’ll make sure you’re all rewarded!”

“Got it!” “We’ll get it done!” “Let’s go, team!”

No one complained. Everyone responded enthusiastically.

That included Jiang Yisheng, who shouted the loudest, “Mission guaranteed!”

She opened her email and began annotating the manuscript she didn’t even like, gritting her teeth and enduring it.

They worked until past midnight. Her hunger had faded long ago, but at least the company gave her 150 yuan as compensation. To treat herself, Jiang Yisheng went to the convenience store to buy hot pot ingredients, determined to start the weekend with a midnight feast.

She turned on music at a low, neighbor-friendly volume, tied on her apron, and began washing vegetables at the sink.

Swaying slightly to the music, she peeked out the kitchen window. The snow hadn’t stopped. Everything was quiet. Snowflakes fell in the lamplight like a dream, and for a moment, it felt like she was the only one awake in the world.

Once everything was prepped, she boiled the water and added the red hot pot base. As the spicy, fragrant aroma filled the air, her stomach roared with hunger. She took a bite of meat and sighed in bliss.

She’d spent 80 yuan out of the 150—a good deal.

Another bite of crisp, fresh vegetables soaked in spicy broth brought a satisfying crunch.

Suddenly remembering the bubble tea she ordered earlier, she realized it was undrinkable now. So instead, she took out a bottle of cocktail from the fridge, dropped in some ice, and poured in the bright blue liquid. Bubbles crackled in the glass, sparkling under the light.

She took a big bite of meat, then a deep swig of the chilled drink. The sweetness cut through the spice, followed by a fizzy burn that stole her breath.

She switched to a quieter song, listened to the bubbling pot, and opened the novel she hadn’t finished.

Reading while eating, time slipped by. When she looked up again, the sky had lightened. The pot had turned cold at some point, a layer of red oil floating on top.

She stared at the words “The End” on the screen and felt a sudden sense of detachment.

It always happened when she finished a novel in one go. Too tired to wash dishes, she just went to the bathroom for a shower.

Wrapped in her blanket, she didn’t check her phone again.

Her head ached from staying up too late. She turned off her alarm and let herself sleep as long as possible.

But the characters still lingered in her mind. She rolled over, frowning, and tightened the covers around her—but the feeling of disconnection only grew stronger.

She began cursing the author in her head—What a damn idiot. I get needing conflict, but torturing side characters for no reason? It left her feeling deeply unsettled.

She wanted to leave a review, but her head hurt too much. Too tired to move, she tried to force herself to sleep.

The image of that unjustly treated character lingered in her mind. Though her brows were still furrowed, her breathing gradually slowed…